Minor Gods
by Byrdde
Summary: As Havelock Vetinari is about to discover, belief is a powerful thing… [Finished!]
1. Disclaimer and Chapter One

Disclaimer: Discworld and its denizens, elephants and all, are the property of the remarkable Terry Pratchett.  Ienska is mine.  So are the horses.

NB: Ienska is pronounced with a long "I" at the beginning.

_Minor Gods_ is set immediately after _Lady Vetinari_ and is a continued unraveling of my little snag on the Trousers of Time.

This particular fic is dedicated to all the wonderful people who reviewed _Assassin's Bane_ and _Lady Vetinari_.  Thank you so much, and I hope you all enjoy this one as much as the other two.

~

Havelock Vetinari closed his eyes in resignation.  "I am going to die."

Ahead of him on the road, Ienska Tineshan rolled her eyes.  "I didn't tell you to come with me, you know."  She walked a few more steps, leading her bay, trying to ignore her companion.  Usually Vetinari was very reserved and almost frighteningly detached from human emotions.  Except, it seemed, in this once regard.

Vetinari sighed.  It was an expressive sigh, detailing the eventual destruction of humanity followed by the slow collapse of the Ramtop Mountains.  Ienska rolled her eyes heavenward in a mute appeal to any deity that might have been bored enough to listen*.

It had been a long week.  About two days out from his mother's manor, Vetinari had started acting oddly.  And then he had begun sighing and moaning…well, sighing and complaining eloquently, Vetinari wasn't really the sort of person who _moaned_, as such.  But she could hear the threat of a moan, had he been just a little less of a gentleman.  And that wasn't the worst of it…Ienska heard both his and his horse's footsteps speed up as he hurried to join her further along the road.  _Oh no…_

"It will be a slow death, I think," he said in a conversational tone.

"You're not going to die," said Ienska, exasperated.

"Perhaps a slow breakdown of the mental process followed by clawing out my own throat."

"You're not going to die."

"Or I could plunge into the depths of despair and starve from neglect."

"You're not going to die."

"Or perhaps I could simply fall into a senseless stupor that I am unable to awake from," he paused to consider this.  "That would probably be the least painful, but a little anti-climatic, don't you think?"

"You're not going to die!" Ienska stopped dead in the middle of the path.  "For gods' sake!  No one, and I mean no one, dies from lack of coffee!"  She took a deep breath.  "Unless it's at the hands of those of us who have been listening to them for the past day and a half."

"You wouldn't," he said easily.

"And why not?"

"Because then you'd have to figure out how to ride without me."

Ienska glared up at the big animal plodding along behind her.  Well, sort of big.  All right, so it was downright tiny for a horse, but it was taller than her.  "Why, again, did we have to bring them?"

"To escape any pursuit my mother might have sent after us.  And, considering the alternatives, I personally would rather err on the side of caution."

Yes, considering the alternative, which involved a white dress and a ring, Ienska had to agree.  Not that she'd ever admit it.  Agreeing with Vetinari was like…well, like agreeing with Vetinari.

Her horse nickered.

"Oh, hush.  You don't have to be smug about it."

~

"When I die, I think I would like to be cremated," said Vetinari, swinging gracefully up into the saddle of his white giant later that day.

"Good," grunted Ienska, struggling to climb up onto her own horse.  He rarely saw her looking so awkward.  No wonder she hated the horses.  "I can use the fire to boil some water for tea."

"You remembered tea?" he asked, in a suspicious voice.

"I, unlike others, actually packed before fleeing for the great unknown."

"No need for that tone," said Vetinari, watching her as she hung from one stirrup.  "Would you, by any chance, accept a hand up?"

"No."  Surprise.

Waiting, he idly inspected his surroundings for the fifth time.  The lack of coffee was making him feel rather out of control, a sensation he was unaccustomed to and was coming to despise with a passion.  Well, as much passion as he ever felt, anyhow.  The breeze shifted, bearing a new smell in their direction.  His head snapped up.

At about the same time, Ienska finally managed to get herself seated firmly in the saddle.  "What is that?" she asked, squinting into the distance.

Vetinari sniffed the air delicately.  "Salvation, I believe."

She shot him an odd look.

"I mean that, on the horizon," she amended, pointing in the opposite direction from the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee.  "It looks like a curtain."

"Probably rain," he said, attempting to sound disinterested so that she would allow them to travel away from the anomaly and toward the scent.  Despite his illicit desire to break and make a dash for the smell, however, he continued to stare at the odd, silver sheet on the horizon.

"It's not moving," she pointed out.  The quick glance she threw his way didn't escape his notice.  "Shall we have a look?"

He shrugged, trying to appear uninterested.  "It could be intriguing.  However," he inhaled deeply once more.  "Perhaps we should look for a place to spend the night a little further from such unknown circumstances?"  It was hard to maintain his dignity when he wanted nothing more than to breath deeply and ride out in hunt of coffee.  Unfortunately, the girl seemed to notice something was wrong.

"What are you talking about?  It's barely noon."

"Ah.  Right, of course.  Nonetheless…"  He took a deep breath to refocus his attention.

"Are you hyperventilating?"

"No, of course not."

Eyes, narrowed, she took a deliberate, deep breath.  "I should have known."

"Yes, perhaps you should have," he admitted.  "Now, might I convince you to take a short detour before riding out to explore the curtain?"  The lack of coffee, he felt, was sorely affecting him if he was actually asking her permission before acting.

"Will you stop moaning?"

"I do not moan."

She raised an eyebrow.

"However, if you agree to allow me my coffee, I shall cease any hypothetical noises of misery."

She rolled her eyes.  "Close enough.  Lead on, Lord Vetinari."

"Of course," he said, trotting by, wondering vaguely why the girl seemed to consider his title a mild insult.  "Especially since you don't know how to steer your horse."

Whatever her response, it was lost in the rush of air as he kicked his ride up to a fast gallop.  He did, however, hear her shout of protest as the bay she was riding accelerated as well.

  


* * *

* Possibly the god of annoyed travelers or Strangler the Put Upon.


	2. Chapter Two

The shopkeeper stood and stared at the empty shelf.  He'd never even dreamed of such a huge sale.  Yes, everyone bought coffee at some point, but very few people bought nearly forty pounds of the stuff in one go.  

His gaze shifted from the shelf to the bag sitting on the counter.  Very few people were willing to pay in gold for coffee, either, so he really shouldn't be complaining.

~

"Are you going to take that mug away from your face at all today?" asked Ienska as they drew near to the shimmering curtain.  Reluctantly, Vetinari let the mug drop from his lips.  "And I do wish you'd choose a straighter path."

It annoyed her no end that she couldn't get her horse to do what she wanted it to.  She had thought, after several days of observing Vetinari – that is, observing Vetinari's technique, she would be able to at least get her mount to turn if she wanted it to.  But the creature just continued on behind the giant white beast, regardless of what she did with the ropes…reins.

"Feel free to strike out on your own," he suggested.  If it had been anyone else, she would have thought the comment was smug.  But, now that he had coffee again, Vetinari seemed as unemotional and reserved as ever.  Maybe she'd hide the giant bag of coffee beans tied to the saddle behind him, just to make him sweat.

Ahead of them, draping over the path, was the great curtain of what, it seemed, actually was rain.  It annoyed her that Vetinari had been right, even about something so minor and obvious.  The more time she spent with him, the more things like that were starting to grate on her nerves.

The downpour divided the road, one side coated in mud, and the other dust with a few random specks of darkened earth where drops had splashed over the barrier.  

She leaned back, eyes following the wall in either direction.  It seemed to curve away, encircling an area of land in its watery embrace.  Carefully, she reached a hand forward, trying to nudge the bay nearer the curtain.  It continued to stand, quite contentedly, beside Vetinari's mount.  Biting back a sound of annoyance, she attempted to swing out of the saddle.  Luckily, she was much better at falling than at getting into the contraption and managed to land in something resembling a dignified crouch.  She glanced up to see Vetinari watching her, mild amusement dancing in his blue eyes.  

Choosing to ignore him for the time being, she stepped forward and stuck a hand into the downpour.  It felt just like it looked: exactly like rain.  She took one more step forward, through the curtain.

Probably not the wisest move she decided half a second later, as she stepped back out, drenched to the bone.  She stepped back in anyhow.  It wasn't as if she could get any wetter.

The drizzle was cool, cloaking the world in gray and filling it with a light patter.  Nearby, a stand of trees rustled gently as the rain hit their branches.  

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back to feel the cool drops trickle down her face.  After a moment she cracked her eyes open.  A dark, unbroken ceiling stretched ahead of her.  She took a step back.

And was nearly blinded by the vivid blue of the sky outside the curtain.  The world outside the strange, centralized storm was warm and thick with the scent of dust.

She tried to shake the water out of her tunic, which was clinging uncomfortably, but gave it up as hopeless.  Looking around, she saw Vetinari sitting on a rock without so much as a drop of water on him.

Well, that wasn't going to last long.

~

Vetinari gave the girl an appraising look as she trotted over.  It had been quite amusing to watch her jump in and out of the strange curtain, but ever since the misunderstanding with his mother, and Ienska's brief foray into the realm of feminine apparel, he had been trying very hard not to pay mind to certain…attributes.  The wet tunic certainly didn't help matters.

"You're drenched," he pointed out.

"I hadn't noticed," she said absently, though the flick of dark hair that sent a splatter of water in his direction seemed deliberate enough.

"Well?" he asked, pointedly brushing a droplet off his sleeve.

"Well what?" she said, sitting down next to him and ignoring his annoyance.

"What, exactly, did you find so interesting in there?"  He shifted away from where the water dripping off of Ienska was pooling between them.  The girl seemed to have some sort of power over the tiny streams, though, because they continued their slow journey towards him.  Unfortunately, it would be, he felt, undignified to leap up in protest.

"Wet," she said, wringing her hair out.  On his boot.  And that was quite enough to convince him that a dignified retreat from his perch on the rock was entirely acceptable.  "Very wet," she added helpfully.

"Ah."  There was a pause as he readjusted the damp sleeve of his tunic.  "Anything seem particularly out of place, then?"

"Aside from an immobile wall of rain hovering over the plains?"

"Obviously."

"Not particularly."

"I see."  There was another pause.  "Anything seem dangerous?"

Ienska looked up from her hair ringing, nose wrinkled and an odd expression on her face.  "You didn't seem too concerned about danger when I was actually in there."

"No, then?"  When she continued to glare at him, he directed his gaze to the curved blade hanging from her belt.  She did not wear it for decoration.

"No," she admitted with a sigh.

"I suppose," he said after a moment's contemplation of the wall.  "That we are going through?"

"Apparently," she said, far too brightly.

"One could wish," he said, "for a heavier cloak."

~

"Do you think it's magic?" Ienska asked.  They had been traveling in the constant downpour for several hours now, and she couldn't decide which was worse: sloshing through the mud, or sitting on a wet horse.  Unfortunately, whether she was leading or riding the animal, there was no escaping its rather unique and strong smell.

Vetinari looked at her, probably in exasperation.  "For the seventh time, I know no more about this place than you do.  I do not know if it is a natural occurrence.  I do not know if it is magic.  I do not know if it is an experiment set up by an alchemist."  He glanced around.  "Though, I believe the latter theory is the most unlikely, as I see no explosions in the general vicinity."

She shot him an annoyed look.  Since when was it a crime to think out loud?  Anyhow, she comforted herself with the thought that his horse smelled even worse than hers.  And, if there was justice, his coffee was getting a thorough soaking.

The sound of distant shouts cut off her next comment.

"What was that?" she asked, voice low.  Vetinari shot her another look, as if to say that, once again, he knew no more than she did.  She really didn't care.

"It seemed," he said at last, "To have come from over there."

"Shall we have a look?" she asked, hand already on the hilt of her sword.

"Is it prudent to get involved in local affairs?" he asked.  "Especially given your, ah…history?"

Ienska gritted her teeth.  He was right, of course.  She needed to break herself of the habit of rescuing innocents and righting wrong.  Someone screamed louder.  This amazing reversal of her life, she decided, was not going to happen today.

"Here, take my horse."  Before he could answer, she shoved the reins into his hand and vanished, quite literally.  It was a gift of hers, and one she used to her full advantage as she raced over the drizzly landscape.  

It was habit only, one developed from training, not instinct, that had her crouch behind a rock to observe the scene before her.

Five men were huddled together, eyes wide, on the slick grass.  Surrounding them, swords drawn, were eight more men, dressed against the rain.  

She cursed silently.

There was no way she could take out eight men in a fair fight on wet grass.  And she wasn't about to sneak up and stab them in the back.  That's what cowards did.  That's what Assassins did…she caught her train of thought before it went to far.  Her own scruples aside, Vetinari was holding the horses.

Well, if she couldn't fight them, she could scare them.

Making sure to keep herself unnoticed, she picked her way down the slight hill.  Reaching the nearest of the thugs, she carefully slit the rope he used as a belt.  It was difficult to do without accidentally touching him, which would have gotten her seen pretty quick, but once done, had exactly the effect she had hoped for.

The man, his pants suddenly bunched around his feet, started and made a grab for them.  After that, it was a simple matter to grab the rope and tie another of the eight's feet together.  A few more pranks and a shove later, the men broke and ran for it, one of them tripping as he discovered, to his horror, that his shoes were tied together.

Satisfied, Ienska was just about to slip away from the fiercely chatting would be captives when Vetinari appeared over the hill, leading both horses.

***

NB: Sorry if this is starting a little slowly, but I promise it gets more interesting.


	3. Chapter Three

Drama was, in Vetinari's opinion, a very useful tool.  The fact that a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder had occurred just as he came into view of the five men Ienska had rescued was, so far as he was concerned, perfectly arranged.  The girl had protested vehemently when he'd said he meant to speak with the men, but he had pointed out that it was, after all, for her own good.  If she couldn't resist rescuing the helpless, than he was going to see that she at least accepted some sort of reward for it.

Unfortunately, the men seemed unwilling to believe that she had done the rescuing, as they had not seen her the entire time.  They had, however, invited the pair to share their campfire.  The smug look she had shot him at their refusal to accept her as their rescuer caved in as he accepted the offer.

"Care for a cup?" he asked the nearest man as he poured himself a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

"What is it?" the man asked suspiciously.

"Drink of the gods," said Vetinari with relish.  The man, casting a worried look toward his four sleeping companions, nodded slowly.  Careful not to spill a drop of the precious liquid, Vetinari poured a small amount into the man's cup.  No reason to waste the stuff if he, like Ienska, proved to dislike the taste.

It was, Vetinari felt, the girl's worst fault.

He glanced over to where she lay, head on the bag of coffee beans to, she claimed, block the wet horse smell.  She seemed to be asleep, but he would never risk his life on it.

A strange sound caused his attention to snap back to the man beside him.  To his shock, he found the man, on his knees in the mud, with the cup raised above his head.

"Oh, divine one, bless your servant with more of this life-giving liquid."  The words were reverent, full of worship.  Vetinari stared at the man, at the outstretched cup.

"Oh, dear."

~

Ienska didn't fully understand what was happening.

As soon as morning had broken over their little encampment, the five men had insisted that she get up and head for their city with them before the youngest of them had sprinted off, presumably to inform someone of their plans.  They hardly spoke to Vetinari, and, for reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, and the few times they had, it had been on their knees.  Whatever fueled their strange behavior toward Vetinari, they seemed unsure of her.  Every time she moved to talk to him, or walk beside him, they jumped forward, nearly screaming incoherent phrases at her.  

The third time this happened, she shot an annoyed look at Vetinari, who prudently stepped over and initiated conversation himself, waving back the men when they moved to intercept him.

"What, exactly, is going on?" she asked in an undertone when he fell into stride beside her.

"There seems to have been a misunderstanding," he admitted, watching the men.  It was strange.  Despite the fact that they were adults, their behavior was leading Ienska to think of them as younger than her own seventeen years.

"Those seem to occur quite often in your vicinity, don't they?" she asked bitterly, trying to remember why she was traveling with him.

"As of late," he said.  "Though, I might assume just as easily, that they tend to occur in _your_ general vicinity."

"And this particular misunderstanding is what, exactly?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

"So far as I can suppose?"

"If that's the best you can do."

"They appear to believe that I'm a god."

She stared.  There really wasn't much else to do, aside from laughing.  And, honestly, she didn't feel like laughing.  "Of what?" she asked finally.

"Pardon me?"

"The god of what?"

Vetinari closed his eyes and sighed.  "I am, it would seem, the god of coffee."

_Now_ she felt like laughing.

~

The four men watched the god with a mixture of caution and curiosity.  They had tried their best to keep the strange girl who had appeared from nowhere the day before out of his way.  Now, it seemed as if she was a companion of his.

All slightly jittery from the previous night's imbibing of the Drink Of The Gods (which the First Neophyte, who had been granted the first drink, had awoken the others to partake of with him), all four of them jumped slightly as a laugh escaped the girl's lips.  They looked at each other, eyes wide.

It was quite obvious to them that she was not a god.  But perhaps a servant of the god?  She had, after all, kept watch over the Sacred Seeds of the Drink all night.  Or, they thought, watching the two walk alongside each other, maybe she was something else entirely.

Either way, she would not interfere with their worship.

~

Vetinari felt distinctly odd.

He knew that it was belief that shaped gods, and that brought them to life.  But, surely, the belief of these men in his own godhood should not affect him?  

Yet, as they traveled, he felt all weariness from their previous journey fade away, and his awareness of the ever-present rain slid into the back of his mind.  In fact, he felt nearly dry.  There were other things, strange feelings, sensations of power in small twinges.  He was changing, somehow.

And, as they drew nearer to the city, the change seemed to be accelerating.

~

It didn't take much to get Ienska annoyed.  She knew that.  Once annoyed, however, it took a long time to get her angry.  She was furious.

As soon as they had arrived in the city, she had been bustled off, along with the bag of coffee beans, for some strange reason, to a small cottage on the outskirts while Vetinari was escorted deeper into the city.  At first, she had appreciated the chance to dry off and put on clothes that weren't muddy from a night on the rain soaked ground.  Then she'd realized the doors were under guard.  She, quite obviously, was expected to stay put.

Well, forget that.

Willing herself unseen, she carefully slipped out a window, dropping onto the damp ground beneath, and strolled past her guards without one of them so much as glancing at her.  That done, she began searching for Vetinari.

Considering the size of the city, he should have been hard to find.  Instead, she simply followed the crowds.

After nearly half an hour of pushing through people who were left with the strange feeling of having seen someone who wasn't there, she reached the center of the mobs.  It was, to her surprise, a small inn with a swinging sign naming it StellarRears.  What she had been expecting, she couldn't say, as they had hardly had time to build a temple.  Yet.

Several men were standing guard at the door.  On closer inspection, they were three of the five men she had rescued the day before, the ones who were calling themselves Neophytes.  Ignoring their existence, and expecting them to do the same for her, she slid into the dimly lit interior of the inn.

There, seated on a makeshift dais at the back of the room, was Vetinari.  He was dressed in a long robe of emerald green and seemed to be wearing a headdress of some sort.  In her opinion, nothing in that room should have been more shocking than his appearance.  Unfortunately, her opinion apparently counted for very little.  To her astonishment, every head in the room turned to look at her, despite the fact that she was currently supposed to be unseen.

Wonderful.

Squaring her shoulders, she marched forward.  If all else fails, the Masters had always said, act as if you belong there.

The final two Neophytes stepped forward to block her progress.  She glared at them.

Unsure, they both glanced at Vetinari, who nodded.

Feeling very much as if she'd like to seriously bruise their coffee loving skins, she continued forward as they retreated to opposite side of the room.

~

"The Guardian," muttered the Second Neophyte to the small group on the left side of the inn.  "The Sacred Seeds of the Drink are entrusted to her keeping."  And he recounted to them her fierce, nightlong vigil over the Sack of the Sacred Seeds, and her devotion to the god.

"Ah," said the people, watching her approach the dais and seeing the god's expectations of her in his face.  "It must be so."

~

"The Consort," said the Third Neophyte as he reached a knot of people on the right side of the room.  "She travels with the god and is allowed to use the Sacred Seeds of the Drink as a pillow for her head."  With reverence, he told them of her angelic sleep, the sweet whispers she had shared with the god as they walked close together, and her wonderful laughter.

"Ah," said the people, watching her approach the dais and seeing the god's affection for her in his posture.  "It must be so."

***

NB: I've actually finished writing this fic, so, as long as there seems to be some interest, I'll post through to the end.  Drop a review to let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter Four

Vetinari did wish the girl was not so touchy about such things.  The mutterings on either side of the room had her on edge.  What did she care what a room full of fanatics thought of her?  Though, he amended, considering the effect their belief was having on him, perhaps she was correct to care.

"You seem to have caused a schism, my dear," he said dryly.

Her head snapped up.  "What," she said slowly, "Did you just call me?"

"Ah," he said.  "The Sacred Seeds – I mean, the beans, are well, then?"

"Given the situation, who really cares?" she asked, eyes narrowing.  "Are you all right?"

"It would seem that such concentrated belief in my…ah, immortal status is having a rather odd effect on me.  And," he added, glancing in turn at either side of the room, "It would seem that the conflicting theories about your presence are all that is keeping me from being plunged completely into this charade."

"That would be the schism?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"Yes."

"Wonderful."  She was obviously struggling between several questions.  "Do you know," she said at last, reaching out a hand to steady herself on his chair.  There was a sound of adoration from the right side of the room.  It occurred to Vetinari that, short of trying to climb onto a horse, he had never seen the girl off balance before.  "Why I can be seen, despite my attempts to the contrary?"

"As far as I can fathom, they see you as mortal, not endowed with any divine powers."  He looked down at the empty mug in his left hand and wished that it was once again filled with rich, brown liquid.  To his mild surprise, coffee sloshed back into the mug.  There were, apparently, advantages to being a god.  "And, despite your apparent efforts otherwise, they feel that you should be visible."

"And what, exactly, is the debate?"  Debate?  Ah, of course, the schism.

"Half the room seems to believe that you are my servant…guardian of the coffee beans, in effect."

"And the other half?"  She was bouncing on the balls of her feet now, swaying slightly.

"Are you quite all right?"

"What," she asked, voice controlled but threatening to break, "does the other half seem to think I am?"

There really was no delicate way to phrase it.  "My consort."

There was a moment's pause.

"Ah.  That would explain…things."

~

In an amazing feat of engineering, the local Architects Guild had managed to erect a temple overnight.  It didn't have grand, soaring archways, or golden halls, but it was quite tall.  And skinny.  With a strange, disk like bulge on top.

All in all, a most…unique structure.

~

The Second Neophyte and the Third Neophyte glared at each other across the center of the room, their respective followers bristling behind them.

The god and the girl had retired to an upstairs room.  This had earned a temporary flux in support for the Consort theory, but they had shortly sent for the Sacred Seeds of the Drink, which seemed to strengthen the Guardian theory.

Currently, both theories were being circulated around the city, adding a little bit of belief with each person who chose sides.

~

"What on the Disc are you wearing?" demanded Ienska as soon as the door closed behind the man who had delivered the coffee beans.  Vetinari had seated himself immediately on a throne like chair, which left her standing by a table a few too-short strides away.

The wavering beliefs were playing havoc with Ienska and, she supposed, Vetinari.  At the moment, however, she didn't have any thoughts to spare for his mental stability, as hers was in serious jeopardy.

"I'm wearing what these people believe a god of coffee should wear," answered Vetinari.  Which, apparently, included the long green robes and a headdress of what, on closer inspection – closer than she would have liked, during a moment when popular opinion was definitely in favor of the Consort – turned out to be yellow feathers.  Belief was a very strong, and very powerful, thing.  Too bad people didn't seem capable of dealing with it properly.

She glanced over at the large sack in the corner.

One moment, she was ready to die in defense of the coffee beans and in his service, the next she wanted to sit down beside him and…

Oh, this was great.

"Any ideas for escape?" she gasped during a small period where whatever the people in the city were doing seemed to be pretty even.

"Escape?  I was not aware of being held prisoner," said Vetinari, sky-blue eyes surveying her.  "And I do not think it is your place to question me."  Or maybe not so sky-blue.

"Of course not, my lord…"  Ienska felt her stomach drop out of her as a new wave of belief washed through the small room.  "Do you think it wise to remain here, my lord?" she questioned in tones much sweeter, drawing slightly nearer.  No, definitely not sky-blue any more.  In fact, a rich, muddy brown was beginning to stain the edges of his irises.  A chill ran down her spine.  The one thing that a god could never change was his eyes.

Her tunic was shifting lengths, as well, trying to conform to the costume of whichever character she was currently cast as: short and militaristic for the Guardian, long and flowing for the Consort.

"Do not worry, my love…" he broke off.  "I really do think," he continued through clenched teeth.  "That it would be prudent for us to depart."

Ienska was about to agree when the first sounds of fighting echoed through the open window.

~

The first steel had been drawn by the followers of the Second Neophyte, now calling himself First Soldier of the Guardian, and had left nearly fifteen of their opposition dead or disabled.

After that, it was only a matter of time before the followers of the Third Neophyte, now First Servant of the Consort, retaliated.

For the time, it seemed the Servant was winning.

~

Vetinari was quite thankful when the remaining three Neophytes, numbered First, Fourth, and Fifth, burst into the room.  The god of coffee, however, was extremely irate.

"My lord," gasped the First Neophyte, falling to his knees.  "The city is in turmoil!  There is fighting in the streets…"

"Your followers kill each other," added the Fifth Neophyte, joining the First in kneeling.

"How dare you interrupt me?" demanded the god of coffee, rising to his feet.

"But, my lord," pleaded the First.  "You must stop the fighting."

The god of coffee glared at his Neophytes.  They had interrupted him with his Consort…they had barged in on his consultations with his Guardian…

Vetinari shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Very well," said the god of coffee, waving a hand.  "The wine caskets in the cellar are now filled with the Drink of the Gods."  And they were.  "Open the caskets, and give the Drink to all.  I shall appear before them to settle this dispute in an hour's time."

"Thank you, oh god of the Drink!" chorused all three Neophytes, hastily removing themselves from the presence of the obviously angered god.

"Now, my dear," said the god of coffee, turning to Ienska.  "Where were we?"

~

The common room of StellarRears was crowded with Neophytes and the uninitiated neophytes, all awaiting the announcement of the god.  All waiting to be proved right.  All with mugs full of the Drink.

~

Ienska was all for slipping out the back while the adoring masses waited in the main room.  The Guardian and the Consort, however, wouldn't hear of it.  Both of them were starting to get on her nerves.  For goodness sakes, couldn't the people of this city make up their minds about anything?

She wore a sword, after all.  What more evidence did they need for the Guardian?  Which, of the two, was her personal preference.  So far, she and Vetinari had managed to come to themselves before the god of coffee and Consort had done anything…

The other argument, that they had locked themselves in a room together, did worry her some, however.

"Why, again," she asked Vetinari, "Is this happening?"

"It's all got to do with belief," he said in slightly marshal tones.  "Enough belief can change reality."  His eyes softened, nearly all brown now and much, much deeper than any human eyes had a right to be.  "But you know this, my dear."  He reached for her.  

Ienska, not quite as deeply caught in the belief yet, backed away.

"And why can't we leave?" she asked.

"They believe my place is here," he said.

"Why, exactly?  Don't gods live on Cori Celesti?"  Her feet stopped moving her backwards.  Where was the Guardian when she needed her?

He shrugged.  "It does not matter, it is what is."  He rose and stepped nearer to her.  "Now, stop being foolish and come here."

To her horror, the foot she lifted to step back began to move forward.  _No!  I am most certainly not anyone's consort!_  She continued forward, toward his opened arms, long skirt twining around her legs.  _Doesn't _my_ belief count for anything?_

The multiverse screamed back a rather emphatic _no_ as she reached her destination.

***

NB:  Drop me a review to let me know what you think? Please?  Only one chapter left…


	5. Chapter Five

The people assembled in SolarRears held their collective breaths as the door at the top of the stairs creaked open.

~

Vetinari led Ienska forward, her hand, grasped firmly enough to prevent escape, rested in his own.  He could feel the resentment radiating off of her as he paused on the landing at the top of the stairs.

He was, for now, his own man again.  There are some things that no amount of belief can do to a person without their own belief.

~

The god raised his arms and there was silence.

"It is time," he said.  "For us to depart."  

"No!" they all shouted.

"We must journey to Cori Celesti," he continued.  "And take our rightful places."

"What of the girl?" they all shouted.

"She is…" he looked at her.  "She is a girl."

"Ah," they all said, and, having heard it from the god's mouth, "It must be so."

"We depart now," he said.  "And enjoy the coffee."

With that, they vanished.

~

"How long can you keep us concealed?" asked Vetinari.

Ienska glared at him.  "Longer if you stop talking and do as I say."

"Of course," he agreed graciously.

Nearly holding her breath, she guided them through the busy common room of SolarRears and out into the fresh, though damp, air.

As soon as they were clear of the crowds, she dropped his hand.

When she thought of what had almost happened, she…well, she wanted to say she was nearly sick.  But, to her great annoyance – like most things relating to Havelock Vetinari – she couldn't.  She knew that she disliked him, obviously.  The fact that she hadn't been the first one to struggle back to normalcy bothered her, though.  She had depended on her belief that she and Vetinari would never be anything more than rather tentative friends, and it had failed her spectacularly.

She glared at him through the drizzle.  Apparently, his belief in that fact had been strong enough to break him free, and, for some reason, she was terribly insulted by that.

_What on the Disc is happening to me?_ she asked herself, trying to chase away the obnoxious thoughts.

He seemed to notice her glare and looked over at her.

"Should we find the horses?" he asked.

She nearly groaned, but then realized that, without the smelly creatures, they faced a much longer journey away from the city and the rain.

"Yes," she admitted grudgingly.  "I suppose we should."

~

Vetinari watched the girl beside him out of the corner of his eye.

It felt very good to be back in control of himself again, but there were certain things he couldn't quite seem to sort out.

For instance, why had it been himself, so much more deeply entangled in the city's belief, that had managed to break free first?  Surely the girl's belief in their total incompatibility was strong enough to have prevented her from acting out the part the city had cast her in?

But, then, it had been a different type of belief that had freed him.

Belief in choosing his own time, in being in control, in not taking advantage of a situation that might take advantage of him as well, and, above all, in the fact that she would have made the rest of his life miserable.

Still, she seemed very quiet as the entered the stables, her wet hair clinging to her face.  He was even becoming accustomed to the way her tunic clung to…other things.

Yes, he admitted to himself with a small smile.  He might just miss the drizzle after all.

~

The owner of StellarRears looked over the day's profits.  And blinked.

"Stanley!"

Moments later, his assistant, a gangly youth who had only just begun growing into his hands and feet, appeared.  "Yes, sir?"

"Do we have any of that coffee left?"  He hadn't bought into the religion that had temporarily taken over his business and built that ridiculous needle structure down the road.  So long as they paid.  But there might be something to this coffee thing.

"Yes, sir."

"Good.  I want you to take some and find out how to make it."

"Sir?"

"We're going to start a…a chain, Stanley."

"A chain, sir?  Of inns?"

"No…of coffee shops," he played with the phrase for a moment.  "StellarRears Coffee."

~

"I think," said Vetinari as they walked the horses out of the city.  "That I'm going to avoid coffee from now on."

"Why ever do you say that?" asked Ienska, trying to get under his skin.

He didn't answer.  Figured.  Of all times for him to not make some sort of annoyingly calm response, he would pick now.  

Why couldn't he just be obnoxious again?

She glanced over to see him watching her.  Great.

"So where are we going?" she asked after a time.

He shook his head, dark hair falling into eyes that she was quite relieved to find were blue once more.  Her fingers itching to push it back out of his face, Ienska began to think that something of their ordeal had rubbed off on her.  Which was the last thing she needed right now.  "I don't know."

"Well, out of this downpour, anyhow," she said, tugging at the hem of her saturated tunic, thankfully returned to its proper length.

"Oh, I don't know," said Vetinari, glancing down at her with…amusement? in his eyes.  "It has its fringe benefits."

Now what in the world was that supposed to mean?

"It's time to mount, I think," Vetinari observed as they paused on the road.

Ienska glared up at her bay.  "I suppose."

She hadn't asked him to come with her, but, for once, she didn't mind when he offered her a hand up.

~

The hoof prints left in the road slowly filled with water, then mud, then were gone.  In the air above, a single yellow feather drifted slowly back to earth.

***

NB: Well, that's it.  Sorry this is so short, but I'm smack in the middle of my Junior year and struggling to keep homework, band, and writing in the air at once.  This was mostly inspired by a desire to get something written and _finished_, as well as, of course, rainy, drear, dear Seattle.  I hope you enjoyed it, despite the brevity.  Valé!


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